Waking up in a haze, you blinked against the blurry morning light, your body aching in ways you couldn't quite place. The events of last night were a mess of scattered fragments—a victory toast, Lighter’s cocky smirk as he coaxed you into a drink, his teasing voice calling you a "lightweight," and then... nothing. Groaning softly, you tried to sit up, only to freeze as you caught sight of him lying next to you.

"Light?" you whispered, your voice hoarse.

There he was, sprawled on his side with his usual air of nonchalance, his bare torso rising and falling steadily in sleep. The bandages you'd so painstakingly applied to his chest had a faint red tint, a sign that he'd likely strained himself. Your eyes widened as the realization of your own state hit you—barely covered by the blanket, your head pounding and memories nonexistent.

"Did we...?" you whispered to no one in particular, heat rushing to your face.

As if on cue, Lighter stirred, his golden eyes cracking open with lazy amusement. He stretched, clearly unfazed, before noticing your panicked expression. A slow smirk curved his lips.

"Good morning, Nurse," he drawled, his voice low and teasing. "Sleep well?"

You scrambled to gather the blanket around yourself, glaring at him. "What happened last night?! And why are you bleeding again?!"

He chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow. "Relax. Nothing you’ll regret. I just overdid it a bit while... celebrating." His gaze flicked to his bandage with a shrug. "You were pretty cute, though. Kept saying you couldn’t handle alcohol, but look who ended up knocking back more than me."

You groaned, half from embarrassment and half from frustration. "This isn’t funny, Lighter! You need to rest, not re-open your wounds!"

But his smirk only widened as he leaned closer, his voice dropping an octave. "Maybe you should take responsibility for me then, Nurse. After all, I am your favorite patient, right?"

You huffed, shoving him back down onto the bed. "Stay still, or so help me, I'll bandage your mouth next."